


Mine

by marzichan



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: AU, M/M, Superstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-05
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-01 04:29:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/351948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzichan/pseuds/marzichan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Green. Jake actually triumphs over his nemesis for once. Superstuck AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Superstuck is a Homestuck AU based in a world where supervillains and superheroes are a common sight. In this AU, Jake is both a supervillain called General Terror and the son of the infamous Lord English. You can find out more by visiting [this page.](http://generalterror.tumblr.com/faq) This story was originally posted [here](http://generalterror.tumblr.com/post/14451040200/you-guess-you-thought-hed-be-impressed-that-for) on Tumblr.

You guess you thought he’d be impressed. That, for once, he would finally see you as an equal opponent. Ha! You were a fucking idiot to think that he could regard you with anything but scorn.

He mocks you, ridiculing your new and improved form, and your temper just… snaps. But you are no longer the awkward dork who stomps around his lair and rails against his infuriating nemesis. No, you have something a lot more satisfying in mind than slinking back to your lair and licking your emotional wounds.

You bare your teeth in a vicious grin, shoving him backward in retaliation for his cutting words. He hits the wall with enough force to wind him, and for the first time in your life someone looks at you with fear. Even if his eyes are masked, you can _smell_ it on him, and you revels in the knowledge that he’s now taking you seriously.

Too bad you’re not done yet. You grab him by the front of his supersuit, lifting him a few inches off the ground, _easily_ , as if he weighs nothing, until his face is level with yours. You chuckle, darkly, leaning in closer.

Although you don’t know it, your eyes have begun to spark, their familiar green eclipsed by a swirl of other colors. The acrid smell of fear grows sharper, tangy and clear to your heightened senses, and you watch him attempt to hide his reaction to this turn of events.

“What’s wrong, Strider?” A wealth of mockery now fills your own voice as you pin him to the wall, inwardly thrilled to have him at your mercy for once. “Cat got your tongue? A pity, as Miss Leijon is nowhere our vicinity. I won’t be able to return it to you until I get a chance to speak with her.”

“Fuck you.” He growls, still somewhat breathless from your earlier attack. His fingernails dig into your hands, trying to force you to drop him. Unfortunately for the Tailorbird, you enjoy a little pain.

You chuckle again, your eyes flashing a variety of colors by this point. Your malicious grin widens. “Not so eloquent now, are you?”

He struggles, searching for another avenue of escape, but his desperate movements have an unexpected effect: your anger almost instantaneously transforms into another dark emotion, lust. The accidental brush of his hips against yours leaves you wanting more, and you press more firmly against him as you dip in to claim his lips.

You’re rough with him, not bothering to hold back as you finally act on the underlying sexual tension you’ve always felt around him. He tries to bite you, and you bite back, nipping at each other’s lips until the coppery taste of blood mixes with saliva as you take possession of his mouth.

You _want_ him. You want to fuck him so hard he’ll never be able to look at you again without remembering you taking him over and over and over. He will be your little pet bird for you to play with whenever you like, trussed up and pretty in a gilded cage.

“You’re mine.” You break from the kiss just long enough to snarl the words against his lips, your eyes wild. You are now the real General Terror, a terrible green fiend truly worthy of your heritage. Jake English would never have been so dominating and bold; for all his pluck, he’s still a boy at heart. But _you_ are definitely a man, and you know what you want from him.

“Fuck you.” He repeats the words, but this time they come out as a husky groan. Whatever his actual feelings toward you, he can’t hide his reaction to your touch. You nuzzle that spot between his neck and shoulder even as you grind against the front of his suit. His breath catches, and he presses up to meet you despite the mix of fear and frustration on his face. You know he hates mutants.

You’ll give him another reason to add to the list.

“No, my dear Strider, you have it all wrong,” you purr against his throat, laughing. “I’ll be the one fucking _you_.”


End file.
